


Resurfaced

by SandDune57



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Angst, Fluffy Ending, Non-Graphic Violence, SBI mostly just here as a nod bc I like them, Watchers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28944987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandDune57/pseuds/SandDune57
Summary: Grian has been living with the Hermits for years. Long enough he thinks he has escaped his past for good. He hasn’t, of course. And when that past caches up to him, the Hermits are left to pick up the pieces.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

Grian wasn't scared. No, he had passed scared a long time ago. Now he was in the territory of full-on panic. He had done everything right, covered his tracks as completely as he could, been more careful than he thought was physically possible, especially for someone as chaotic as himself, but it didn't matter in the end. The watchers had found him. They had to have found him because the broken bedrock frame was sitting there, buried in the back of Mt. Scarmore, as if it had always been there. As if its presents meant nothing. As if it hadn't brought the end of Grian's world. There was no decoration, no fanfare, no grand spectacle—just simple bedrock, almost one hundred blocks above where it should spawn. 

"Grian, you good man?" Tango's voice brought Grian back to reality with a jolt. He had forgotten anyone else was with him, in all honesty. He had been far too caught up in what this symbol being here could possibly  _ mean. _

Grian took another second to compose himself before responding. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's just not really what I expected when you said you wanted to show me something 'strange.' Ha- have you told Xisuma about this yet? This feels serious; we should get him over here ASAP." He internally cursed the stutter in his voice for betraying his fear, but Tango either didn't notice it or simply ignored it.

"Wow, saying Xisuma's name correctly? Something really is wrong, isn't it?" Tango joked, but words hit a bit too close to home for Grian's liking. Tango continued. "And yeah, I sent word to him the moment I found it. He said he'll be over later. Just figured I'd show you now, seeing as you're here and all, yeh know?" Grian could tell his friend was trying to keep the mood light for his sake, but the shorter Hermit just wasn't feeling up to it, not with that horrible bedrock staring down at him, crushing him under the weight of his past and all that he had left behind.

"I, yeah. I'm going to find Xisuma. This- I don't think this can wait until whenever 'later' is." At Tango's half concerned, half skeptical look, he added, "I may or may not have a hunch to who did this. I just hope I'm wrong." He knew he wasn't. "You coming?"

* * *

Xisuma didn't know what to expect when the newest member of the Hermitlands showed up outside his portal, his eyes wide with panic that didn't fit his bubbly personality one bit. Tango stood next to him, watching Grian as if worried he would break down any minute. This couldn't be good. 

It was Tango, not Grian, who spoke up first. "You know the bedrock glitch I told you about? Well, I showed it to Grian, just to see what he thought and -"

"Please just come look at it." Grian cut him off. "Just- please." Xisuma nodded, his concern growing by the second. He strapped a shimmering purple elytra to his back and motioned for the duo to follow him through the portal.

The trip back to the shopping district was relatively quiet, save for the loud bang of Tangos overly colorful, explosive rockets and the occasional grunt of a piglen from far below. As they flew, Xuima couldn't help but feel a sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach. Glitches like this one usually formed when new chunks were loaded, or just after an update. And bedrock was one of the most stable blocks; it hardly ever glitched. The pieces just didn't add up. And Grian, he seemed to know something about . . . about  _ whatever _ it was that was going on. Noone had seen the chaotic Hermit this quiet since he first joined the server, and the change was concerning to say the least.

Said quiet Hermit led the way to the back of Mt. Scarmore, where the bedrock sat, plain as day. Xisuma did a double-take when he saw it. He  _ knew _ that symbol. It was a broken bedrock portal, the symbol of the Watchers. This was no glitch, that was for sure.

"What do you think, X?" Tango asked septically. His eyes flicked between the two men, seemingly unsure of what to do.

"I think this is bad news, that's what I think. Thank you for showing me this, Tango. You too, Grian. We need to call a server meeting. The others deserve to know what's going on," the voidwalker said. 

"Okay~ but, what is going on exactly?" Tango asked, prompting a sigh from the admin.

"This isn't some strange glitch. This is the work of Watchers, powerful entities native to the end, my home dimension. I can explain more, but I would rather tell everyone at once." The red-eyed Hermit nodded before pulling out his communicator as it dinged with a message notification

**General chat:**

XisumaVoid: Can everyone please meet behind Mt. Scarmore tomorrow at 10:00? There has been an important sever wide development.

ImpulseSV: sure thing x

StressMonster101: Umm . . . Ok

EthosLab: I can make it

Docm77: Why there?

TangoTek: Strange bedrock thing appeared there this morning

ImpulseSV: That's not possible

FalseSymmetry: ???

FalseSymmetry: How

XisumaVoid: It should be nothing to worry about, but this is serious. I can answer everyone's questions tomorrow.

More questions filled the chat, but Xisuma ignored them, instead opting to question a certain red sweatered Hermit. 

"Grian, you recognized that symbol, didn't you." It was a rhetorical question, but Grian nodded anyway. "How?, Do you have experience with them? Most people associate them more with their masks than with this symbol."

Giran seemed to pick his world carefully as he said, "They were active in my old world. I saw a few of their structures during my time there, so yeah, I guess I recognized it." Xisuma could tell that that wasn't the end of that, but Grian looked drained enough already, his eyes trained on the floor, his shoulders hunched in just a bit.

"Hey, hey, look at me. It's going to be alright. Whatever they did to scare you, we will protect you," the admin reassured him.

"You can't hide from a Watcher."

"No, but we can protect you in other ways. They don't like to show themselves. Would you feel better if someone stayed with you?" Grian nodded, and Xisuma pulled out his communicator again.

**Private chat (XisumaVoid, MumboJumbo):**

XisumaVoid: Mumbo, would you mind staying with Grian for a bit? He's a bit freaked out right now

MumboJumbo: Of course

MumboJumbo: What's wrong

XisumaVoid: Hard to say, but I think he could benefit from some company

MumboJumbo: okay

MumboJumbo: I'm at my base rn. Need me to come get him

XisumaVoid: no, we'll be over in a few

The admin turned to Grian once again. Tango had left at some point in the conversation, leaving just the two of them. "I have a few things to finish up before tomorrow, but Mumbo said he would be happy to stay with you. Come on, I'll take you to his base." The older Hermit got the sense the younger would not want to be alone even for a moment. Grian breathed a sigh of relief, confirming the admin's suspicions, and the pair took to the skies.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, you guys! I truly only expected like, 20 people to see this! Thank you so much!

Grian was beyond grateful he wasn't the only one on the server who knew of the Watchers. Even if Xisuma seemed to be more confused than concerned, it was still a massive relief that it wouldn't be left to him to explain everything. With enough luck, he wouldn't have to say anything at all on the topic. It wasn't like anyone knew he had a connection to the Watchers anyway.

He and Mumbo showed up to the server meeting a few minutes early. Xisuma had built a massive wooden platform in front of the bedrock, and it seemed that he had gotten Keralis to decorate it and add some seating. A few Hermits had arrived already and were making idle chatter from their seats, or stood examining the bedrock symbol and the sign that stood next to it.

_Wait, a sign?_ Grian thought, _Since when has there been a sign?_ The Watchers must have added it after everyone had left for the night. That wasn't good. A sign meant the Watchers wanted something. Hands shaking slightly, he stepped up to the group surrounding it.

_Little Empire you steal, then you flee,_

_And now we demand back what does not belong to thee_

_Little Birdy, should you chose to fly home,_

_We will leave your precious "Hermilands" alone_

"What do you think it could mean?" False asks quietly. She, Cleo, and Joe made up the crew examining the riddle.

"Well, obviously they are referring to one of us, but who would be considered an 'Empire'? Maybe they are after a group of people?" Cleo asked

"Well, Scar is mayor, but that's not really an 'empire'" Joe mused out loud. "Bdubs has that castle he's been working on, but that's not really an empire either. Maybe it's referring to Ren and that 'Renpire' thing he has got going on?"

"Hey Ren!" False waved the Hermit over, "You know anything about this?" 

Ren examined the sign before shaking his head. "Nah dude, besides, I don't really fit the description' little birdy' anyway man." Grian had been quiet the whole time, too terrified to speak up. To him, what the Watchers wanted was painfully obvious. Before anyone could ask him his opinion, however, he was saved by Xisuma calling everyone to their seats. 

"Hello everyone. We have gathered here today because of a certain bedrock structure that I am sure you have all seen by now." The admin started. Nods of agreement rippled through the crowd. "This impossibility right here is likely the work of the Watchers, powerful beings native to the end dimension. They mostly sit back and observe, but they will interfere with a world every now and then, but only if it is of benefit to them. The real question is, why the Hermitlands, and why now?" 

Concerned murmurs rippled through the crowd, no one liking the idea of these 'Watchers' messing with their home. A few Hermits with more experience with the entities even told horror stories to those who had never heard of them. Eventually, Scar raised his voice above the others to ask "Aren't they more associated with those mask thingies though? I don't think I have ever heard of them being connected to a broken portal." A few others voiced their agreement with his statement.

"While many people associate them with the Watcher mask, the bedrock portal is their preferred symbol. It shows off their power or something, at least I think." Xisuma answered to the best of his ability.

"What about the sign?" Falce piped up, having been one of the Hermits more indeed in it. "It seemed like some sort of death threat."

"WHAT!?" screeched a very concerned sounding Bdubs. Doc grabbed his arm to calm him down, but a grand total of zero Hermits seemed comfortable with what False had said.

"Yeah, I saw that. We can deal with that in a second. The first step is to determine who or what it is they are after. If it's a Hermit, we need to protect them, but if it's an item, it is best we give it up and not cause a fight. You can not respawn from a death by Watcher." A hush fell over the crowd at the voidwalker's words. It took a minute for the new implications of the threat to sink in. No respawn. If you're dead, you're gone forever. Grian buried his head in his hands as the air grew thick with tension. It was clear in the eyes of every Hermit that this news flash wouldn't make them back down. They were going to risk their lives for a coward. He never should have come here, he should have gone somewhere else, where he wouldn' put anyone's lives at risk, but he was a fool. 

"If anyone wishes to leave, you may do so now, and you will receive an invitation to join us in the next colony." X continued. Just as Grian feared, no one moved. "Good. If we want to move forward, we are going to need to find out what it is they want. The main clues given are 'little empire' and 'little birdy', which is not much to go off, but it's likely intended for one recipient, not all of us. Anyone have any ideas?" The rock hard tension in the air softened the slightest bit as the Hermits began discussing the riddle, coming up with theories and tossing them out just as quickly. Grain was half listening to Mumbo and Iskall debate whether Cub's status as a pharaoh classified his home as an 'empire' or not, but most of his energy was devoted to not letting his tears fall from his eyes. He must not have been doing a very good job, however, because Iskall noticed his strange behavior after only a few moments.

"Grian, you good man? You've been awful quiet all day."

"I- it's just-" He was choking on his own words, unable to get anything out. Gods, he felt like such an idiot. But the others deserve to know. As far as he was aware, no one even suspected it might be him the Watchers were after. Finally, he looked up and breathed, "It's me."

After a moment of confused silence, it was Mumbo who put it together. "Oh. _Oh._ Grian, you should have said something." The Hermit in question didn't respond. Until now, there was no point in speaking up, but if the Watchers were going to attack the Hermitlands, then he would do everything in his power to protect the others. He had never meant to put anyone else in danger, and while he may be a fool, he wasn't selfish enough to get everyone killed so he could avoid his past for a few more years. A plan already forming in his head, he rose from his seat. Everyone was staring at him now, which he ignored, and he walked over to where Xisuma was sitting. 

"I lied earlier when I said my only experience with the Watchers was from a distance. They- It's me they are looking for. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for dragging you all into this, but I won't go back. Watchers draw power from other Watchers, and I hold a lot of that power. If I go back, they will literally eat me alive. If you want me to- want- want me to leave, then I will, but I won't go back to them. I'm so so sor-"

"No one is asking you to leave, Grian." The Voidwalker admin cut him off, "No one is asking you to go back to the Watchers either. I don't know what your connection with them is, but no one here is going to hurt you for it."

Deep down, the newest Hermit knew his admin was right. There was not a single person in the Hermitlands who would even think about judging him for his history with the Watchers, but that only made him feel worse. How could he stand to let these wonderful people he had made a life with risk theirs for his sake? If the Watchers came- No, _when_ the Watchers came, someone would get hurt. Void, it was more than likely that at least one of them would die. Like Xisuma said, it's impossible to respawn from a Watcher attack.

Grian was about to say as much, but he never got the chance. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, ear wrenching static split the air, drowning out all other sounds. Just behind the hastily made meeting platform on which the Hermits stood, a glowing rip in reality, as bright as the moon, started to form. It grew and grew until it took the form of a winged entity, easily six blocks tall. Its body was a textureless pale gray color, and its face was covered by a similarly colored mask. Particles of purple magic swirled around it, and when it spoke, its voice was like one hundred people speaking at once.

"You hid well, little empire." Their voice boomed, causing those closest to it to flinch and cover their ears. They ignored the humans in front of them and floated right up to Grian, placing an oversized hand on his face as the thing cooed. "Come back to us, little empire. I know you missed our games." Grian spat in the creature's face, a burst of confidence filling him at the sight of the monster towering over his friends. The things' emotions were hidden by Their mask, but there was disdain in their voice as they said, "Very well, little empire. If you are so determined to resist your fate, just remember, what happens next is on you."

Throughout the whole ordeal, the other Hermits had stood still, shell shocked. However, the spell was lifted the instant the monstrous creature blinked seemingly out of existence with a soft *crack*, though Grian knew they had simply teleported to the Watcher domain, deep in the void. 

"Was that a Watcher? That thing was terrifying, dude!" Ren exclaimed as soon as he found his voice again. Most of the others simply stood where they were, looking from Grian to the place the monster had been just moments ago and back again, mouths opening and closing in stunned silence.

Grian shook his head sadly at Rens question. "No, that was a Watchling, as smaller, less powerful Watcher the higher-ups use to do their dirty work, like a runt."

"Well how are we supposed to fight _that_ ? It didn't even look to be one hundred percent solid." Etho questioned. In all honesty, Grian knew they _couldn't_ fight them. Even with the Hermits admittedly high-quality gear, they could hardly put a dent in beings. The Watchers would obliterate them with their magic and predict every move by seeing out of their opponents' eyes; a Watcher specialty. Grian remembered the training, being forced to take over the senses of another human to predict their every move in a fight, to find them no matter where they tried to hide. The ability was the Watchers' namesake, allowing them to spy on anyone, anywhere, no matter what.

"Well, I hope we figure it out pretty quickly," False said, staring up at the sky, "Because we have a bit of a problem inbound." Grian turned to see what it was she was talking about, and his heart skipped a beat when he did. For floating in the sky was not one, not two, but an entire army of full-sized Watchers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight time! I really don’t think any of this is needs a warning but better safe then sorry

False watched with horror in her eyes as the Watchers appeared above the shopping district. Countless tears in the very fabric of reality formed in the sky, each glowing as intensely as a beacon to as bright as the mid-day sun. The vast majority formed near cloud level, above the shopping district proper. However, a few were much closer, close enough to hear the echoes of static as the beasts forced their way into reality. Without even fully thinking about what to do next, she and about half of the other Hermits simultaneously took to the sky, bows' taught and swords out.

The Watchers and Watchlings wasted no time; they swooped down on the shopping district, destroying mounds of hard work with powerful blasts of purple magic. It took False several attempts to get close enough to hit one with her sword, but when she did it screeched with rage and turned away from its rampage to fight her. It effortlessly dogged her next three blows and swiped at her with magic-enhanced claws, which she barely managed to avoid. She swiped at its massive legs, but it seemed to know exactly where she was, even when she was out of sight. No matter how hard she tried, it dogged her attacks, and no matter where she hid, it found her in seconds. It was all she could do not to get herself hit.

False was no idiot. No, she knew from the beginning that defeating this beast was a near-impossible task. Even lading a blow was proving difficult, but she had hoped to at least distract it from its mission of destroying everything in its path. It wasn't working. The Watcher seemed plenty capable of causing chaos and destruction while simultaneously remaining locked in battle. An extra-long swipe of its claws took out a signpost, a quick flare of its wings smashed the front of Lamps Plus, and a blast of magic reduced the road to rubble. False was starting to wonder how much longer the Watcher would remain distracted by their little game, and when it would kill her and go back to raining havoc on the server.

The warrior Hermit cursed as her elytra caught on a broken pipe, tearing slightly and significantly reducing its durability. No sooner had she freed herself then was she food to take to the sky to avoid getting her feet encased in bedrock. From her new vantage point, she could see the entirety of the shopping district, or what was left of it. Everything was in ruins, not a single building stood untouched, and strange purple fire gave the air a smokey hue. 

Several smaller Watchers (Watchlings, Grian had called them) were flying out over the ocean in search of new places to wreak havoc. Most of the full-sized Watchers had turned to harassing the Hermits, taunting them like a predator playing with its prey before it feasts. She watched helplessly as Keralis fired an arrow into his target's back, only to be knocked out of the sky by a burst of purple energy. She let out a scream, shooting forward to check on the builder, momentarily forgetting about her own opponent in the process. A lethal, stupid mistake, one she usually considered herself above. The Watcher grabbed her by the waist, shredding her elytra beyond use in the process. It laughed as she shielded her eyes from its burning light, squeezing tighter and tighter until her lungs cried out in pain and her vision swam. A fizzing sensation formed in her chest, growing and spreading along her limbs and into her head. Then all at once, the world went black, and her thoughts slowed to a stop.

Grian could only stare as the Watcher army descended on the shopping district of the Hermitlands. There had to be at least forty of them, the smallest Watchlings standing four blocks tall, the largest Watchers at over fifteen. Each one had its own style of destruction, some taking out large chunks of land with one blast of magic, others carefully picking apart the buildings, relishing in the chaos. Still, others seemed more interested in toying with the Hermits than sowing destruction, laughing as they battled the mortals. A good half the Hermits had taken off to fight the mammoth beasts, but it didn't matter. Even if every member of the Hermitlands fought, they would still be outnumbered two to one. Grian knew from experience that a single Watcher could take on three seasoned warriors no problem.

One of the Watchers, the tallest and most powerful of them all, seemed dissented in the chaos altogether. Instead, it leisurely drifted towards Giran; it's sixteen blocks of height sent it towing over the remaining Hermits. Grian recognized them as Adrian, a member of the Watcher counsel and one of the most powerful Watchers in existence. They didn't waste time with words. They seldom did. A glowing white hand shot out to wrap itself around Grian's neck, not quite tight enough to cause damage, but more than enough to cause discomfort.

Grian could feel Adrian's magic dig deep into his core, reaching for the well of untouched magic leftover from his time with the Watchers. The ex-Watcher knew that if they found it, they would suck it dry, destroying Grian and every physical object in a 100-mile radius. In the distance, he saw his friends fighting, Etho darted in and out of the fray, Iskall and Cub stood back to back, and False was taking one on all by herself, the crazy warrior woman that she was. The shopping district was in ruins, and everyone sported some kind of injury. He didn't want to let this continue. It would kill him to watch his friends sacrifice everything for his sake, as surely as the Watcher in front of him would. A hint of a plan started to take root in his brain, one that might even get him out of this alive. Maybe. But he needed to by himself just a bit more time. 

Will all of his strength, he strained against Adrian's magic, holding out against its power as long as he could. "Xisuma," he gasped, "Get everyone out of here. Teleport them far away, somewhere random, where even you don't know where you are."

Xisuma, one of the few hermits who had not already joined the fray, shook his head at Grian. "That will only drag this out. They will find you eventually."

"I'm going to buy you as much time as I can, ok? Now GO!" Grian's voice grew steadily louder, till he was practically screaming. With a frightened nod, the admin did as he was told, reaching for his communicator and beginning to type. Unfortunately, Adrian took that moment to turn away from Grian to lash out at Xisuma, sending him flying back. Joe caught his body and grabbed his arm, where his communicator was bound. In the split second of relief the exchange brought him, Grian tunneled into his own inactive powers, his physical form slowly and painfully being exchanged for his Watcher one. He stood a measly 9 blocks tall, hardly qualifying as a full Watcher. Still, his form glowed as bright as the sun, and it only grew brighter with the energy he absorbed from the battle around him. The moment he had full access to his powers, he lept into Joe's head, whom, much to his relief, was completing the teleport command. He hit enter, and the Hermits *vrooped* out of existence. Grian waited for one more moment to be sure they were gone before putting his plan into action. Timing was key. Another second waisted and any Watchers still in the hermits' heads could find and kill them, but if the hermits weren't gone, then they would die for sure, and this would all be for nothing.

Grian, now fully Watcher, plunged into his magic, diving deeper than he ever had before, ignoring everything in his mind that screamed for him to stop, that it wasn't safe. He knew he had to work fast, before any of the Watchers present got bored and flew out of range, or worse, went after the Hermits. Then two things happened, in such quick succession they may as well have been simultaneous. Grian exploded, pushing outward with all of his magic, ignoring how much it hurt. The blast was powerful, so much so that it took out the bedrock beneath him with ease. The blinding purple light was visible for over a hundred miles, and the tremors it caused were felt a quarter of the way around the world. The magic tore through everything it touched, leaving not a single block behind. The nearest ruins were at the furthest edge of the Hermit Jungle, and even there, not much was left. The force of the explosion sent the Watchers tumbling through the air to the edge of the blast radius, destroying the weakest Watchlings all together. 

And the second thing that happened? Without enough magic left to sustain itself, Grian's Watcher body imploded, crumbling away to be replaced with his worn-out human one. But even his birth-form couldn't keep him conscious, and he fell, disappearing into the void below.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER CONTAINS BLOOD! Paragraph is marked off in bold, and if you want to skip it you will still be able to understand everything.

When Mumbo came to, the first thing he felt was pain. Crushing pain that wrapped itself around his left leg and climbed up into his lower back. It felt like his bones had shattered, and given the recent battle, he wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. An attempt at opening his eyes alerted him to a pounding headache just behind his temples, so he decided to just listen to his surroundings instead.

He could hear the scuffle of footsteps and low murmuring voices to his left. They sounded human. Either the Watchers had let them get away, or they had thrown the Hermits in some kind of cell. Mumbo wasn't entirely sure which he would prefer. The air was hot, hotter than the shopping district, and much hotter than the End. Where did that leave? The nether? It felt too unlikely. Unable to stand waiting any longer, the redstoner focused his eyes open, ignoring how it made his headache flare. 

Hermits in various states of consciousness lay in a massive dogpile around him. Almost everyone seemed to have some sort of injury. Only a handful were up and walking, and those who were were attempting to move the unconscious ones. Satisfied that the others were as safe as they could be, Mumbo examined the terrain a bit more closely.

They were in a very built-up mesa, terraforming and shops covering most of the clay underfoot. It took the Hermit a few seconds to realize why the surroundings felt so familiar. They were in the middle of the shopping district in the fourth hermit colony. Time and weather had left the buildings looking a bit worse for wear. Still, it was unmistakably the fourth colony's shopping district. More confused than ever, Mumbo pulled himself into a sitting position. 

"Oh! You're awake! Okay, that's perfect, actually. We could use all the help we can get if you're up for it?" Mumbo looked up to see a very disheveled looking Joe Hills picking his way over to him. There were deep bags under his eyes, and his clothes were torn and bloody. He offers the redstoner a hand, which Mumbo gladly took.

"I think my leg is broken. I can't walk," he informed the Dog Catcher, "But other than that, I think I'm alright."

Joe gave a relieved chuckle at the news. "If that's the case, then you're pretty well off. I'll have Stress take a look at your leg, though." The poetic Hermit settled Mumbo on a makeshift bench off to the side of the road, allowing Mumbo to have a better view of the situation than he did from the ground. About half the hermits were still in a massive pile in the middle of the road, sporting various levels of injuries. Inside a nearby shop he could see the edges of a bed, and muffled voices came from inside. The only two conscious people he could see were Joe, who was carefully moving the unconscious hermits out of the road and into more comfortable positions, and Etho, who seemed remarkably well off for someone who was undoubtedly in the middle of the battle. Upon closer inspection, Mumbo realized that his right arm was wrapped up, and half-faded wounds suggested a healing potion.

Much to Mumbo's surprise, Stress came out to set his leg (it was, in fact, broken) and give him a health potion in less than twenty minutes. This made more sense when he was immediately sent to go find more medical supplies, along with water, food, and beds. Having been a member of the Hermitlands when this colony was created, he finds the materials with relative ease. In the end, he made several trips and even pointed Stress to some shops with supplies she may find useful in case she couldn't wait for him to return.

After making his fourth delivery run, Stress gave him the run-down of the situation. After the fight, Joe had sent them into the middle of nowhere to lose the Watchers but quickly realized they would need more medical supplies than they could gather quickly. When he was confident, the coast was clear, he sent them to the nearest abandoned colony to scavenge what they could.

He, Etho, and TFC had been put on supply gathering duty, having only sustained minor injuries and having lived in this colony while it was still active. Stress was attempting to heal some of the worse-off-but-non-critical hermits, with the aid of Hypno. Wells bonused between assisting them and helping the rest of the Hermits as they woke up. Scar was in another shop, using his vex magic to keep anyone on the brink of death alive; Joe was with him. The whole set up reminded Mumbo of a war refugee camp. Perhaps it was, in a way.

**~~~~~~~~Start~~~~~~~~**

A loud groaning interrupted her before she could tell Mumbo who was in what condition. He followed the healer to the farthest bed, where the sound was coming from, and instantly stumbled back when he saw its occupant. Iskall's face was drenched in half-dried blood, coming out of the holes where his eyes used to be. The organic one was covered by a large bandage that wrapped halfway around his skull, but it was soaked with blood and stained red. The patch over his right eye, however, had come undone, revealing a gaping, bloody hole. The robotic eye itself sat on a table next to him. The contraption was smoking slightly and coated in more half baked gore.

**~~~~~~~~End~~~~~~~~**

"Iskall, he- he took an explosion straight to the face," Stress explained sadly. Her voice somehow turned even more solemn as she added, "He- he's going to be completely blind if he survives this." It took Mumbo a few seconds to comprehend the meaning of her words. 

"But- But he had a bionic eye before," Mumbo sputtered, unable to accept the news. "Why can't he have a second?"

"His optical nerves are too damaged to pick up signals" Stress shook her head. "At best, he may be able to reagin minimal vision in his left eye. Enough so he can walk but not much else. I know it's hard, Mumbo. If you need a minute to yourself, you can take one, okay?" The healer's voice was soft and full of unprocessed pain. Mumbo knew the two were close, and he knew that if there was any possible way to help his friend, then she would. The resignation in her voice only severed to deepen his anger. 

Now that he thought about it, he really was angry. Angry at the Watchers for doing this to them, to all of them, and angry at the universe for letting it happen. 

Mumbo nodded to Stress and jogged out of the makeshift hospital without another word. He ran down streets at random, slowly picking up speed, lost in his own thoughts until he collapsed in front of a lamp post and cried. Cried because everything felt so much more real now, not that there were lasting consequences. Cried because Iskall, who always took on the most ambitious projects, who loved Redstone and sparing more than most Hermits ever would,  _ Iskall _ , one of his closest friends, would be blind forever. Would never be able to laugh at him when he cut his mustache wrong again. Would never be able to laugh at an ugly building in another kingdom again because he would never  _ see _ an ugly building in another kingdom again. Would never be able to build a Redstone farm or contraption again. Because if he lived, he'd be blind forever. _ If he lives. Which means he might die.  _ Iskall could die permanently. Which would mean he would never see his friend's face again, never hear that infectious laugh. Never make idle conversion with him after a long day. Never swap stories till there was nothing new left to say. He had never imagined a life without Iskall, and now he might have to live it.

He refused to think about the fact that he hadn't seen Grian yet.

Eventually, the sun set, his tears ran dry, and his breathing calmed. At some point someone must have found him, because a blanket had been draped over him, and a plate of food that had long gone cold lay by his feet, but no one had asked him to get up. 

Calmer now, he got up and made his way back to the others. He'd been gone for a good few hours, and by now several more hermits were up and moving. Zedaph had joined Tango at Impulse's bedside, and the pair were asleep and leaning on each other in a way that couldn't be comfortable. Impulse himself was awake and looking at them with a soft smile. He was covered in a nasty set of second and third-degree burns from head to toe, but he would survive. 

Joe was on a break, passing the time by playing a game of cards with Cleo. The duo was sat in between False and Xisuma. The zombie girl had one hand on her friend's bed, which she lifted to wave at Mubo as he passed by. Cleo's middle was raped in sizable bandages, but she was much better off than False, who was swollen and covered in bruises like she had been crushed. Xisuma, on the other hand, showed no signs of injury but also had not moved since Mumbo last saw him. 

Mumbo took a seat beside Iskall. The upper half of his face was now wrapped in fresh cotton, and he lay sound asleep. He looked to be in considerably less pain than he was earlier, but the memory of his empty eye socket staring up at the ceiling ached in the taller Hermit's mind. Mumbo curled up in the chair, long legs spilling over the sides. He felt guilty for deciding to stay with Iskall instead of looking for Grian, but Iskall was hurt and possibly dying. He knew Grian would understand; he would too if the roles were reversed. Besides, Grian was probably asleep now anyway. He would look for him in the morning.

Little did he know that Grian was, in fact, not asleep at all. No, instead, hundreds of miles away, the aforementioned Hermit had just opened his eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m officially out or pre-written chapters :( as a result chapters might slow down a bit but I’ll do my best to post twice a week if at all possible.
> 
> Kudos and Comments are my serotonin and inspire me to write more. I respond to each and every one, reply’s too!
> 
> Thank you for reading and have a good day/night/whatever time its for you


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s late I’m sorry ;-;

The world was pain and darkness. Iskall’s arms, legs, chest,  _ everything  _ was in pain. His head most of all. Iskall's eyes burned with a fire he hadn't felt since he lost his first one. The pain quickly drowned out all other sensations. A groan of pain met his ears, and he was vaguely aware it might have been his own. Sounds he couldn't understand grew louder in his ears, voices he couldn't identify saying words he couldn't make out.

The pain was still present, but it was dulled as if the fire of it had been smothered in a cloth, and now only the embers remained. Because it wasn't as bad now, he was aware of his soundings, could feel the cuts and burns on the rest of his body, but they too felt less sharp than they should. Despite his wounds, Iskall remembered everything that had happened in more vivid detail than he would like to admit. He and Cub had been pressed back to back, desperately trying to distract their target. The watcher seemed to be everywhere at once, and it predicted their every move. Eventually, the monstrous beast had surprised them with a massive explosion, the impact of which had knocked him out cold.

Besides his face, which must have taken a direct hit, Iskall could feel a deep gash in his leg and a major burn on his right arm that hadn't been there before. Vaguely he wounded how Cub had fared. He'd been a few feet further away from the blast, but in an explosion of that magnitude, a few feet was a laughably small distance. How had the other hermits faired? Did they win or lose? How was Mumbo? Was Grian ok? The questions swirled in his head, a vortex moving fast and fast until he could stand it. Carefully he tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't corporate. His arms still worked, though. Well, his left one did, and a quick touch to his face revealed it was heavily bandaged. Ah, well, that explains a lot.

"Oh my goddess! Iskall!" The familiar tone of Mumbo's voice was like music to his ears. "Are you alright? Well, obviously you're not alright, but you know what I mean. How's your head?" Mumbo rambled. He sounded a concerning mix of revived and . . . considered. How long had he been out for?

"Painfull, thanks for asking. So did we do it? Did we win?" Iskall struggled to climb to a sitting position, but a pair of hands, shaky but firm, pushed him back down.

"Woah, Woah, Iskall stop moving! You'll hurt yourself." Came Mumbos voice, much closer this time. "Yeah, we won, well I think we did. We're alive, aren't we? I feel like that's at least somewhat of a win. We are in the fourth colony shopping district right now though, the current Hemitlands couldn't be saved." He paused to restrain Iskall, who was once again trying to rise from the bed. "Iskall, you need to  _ stop moving.  _ You're really hurt right now."

"Dude. I'm literally fine. A little sore, but fine." It was a stretch, sure, but Mumbo didn't need to know that.

"No, Iskall, I don't think you understand. You almost died. I'm not just letting you get up, and the fact that I can hold you down at all says a lot about how strong you are right now." Ahh, so he had not been as discrete as he thought. The injured Hermit lay back down on the bed.

"Gosh, I wish I could see your face right now. I bet you're doing that weird frowning thing you always do when someone is hurt," Iskall teased, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work. 

"Umm Iskall, about that . . ." His friend's voice trailed off as if he was hesitant to say whatever it was that was on his mind. "Stress said . . . Wow there is really no easy way to say this but this sight thing, it's. . ."

"Long term?"

"Permanent"

". . . Oh"

The shock took a moment to sink in. Blind. He was blind. Forever. The more it sunk in, the more it hurt. His already aching head throbbed with the implications of everything. If I'm this bad, how's everyone else? It was a risky question, but he had to know.

Mumbo paused a second before answering, "Well, I don't have the most up to date information, nor the most accurate, but last I checked, everyone's mostly fine, except for False, Doc, Keralis, and Cub. Xisuma just woke up a few hours ago, and everyone else has been up for a while now. False and Keralis both have more injuries than anyone can count, I think she took on a Watcher all by herself, but even she has her limits, I guess. Doc and Cub each took horrible blows to the head, and Doc's cybernetics melted, so he's in critical condition. I just got back from helping etho with him, but even now, no one is sure what will happen. I'm sorry, I know it's not the news you want, but at least it looks like everyone will live. I hope." The redstoner added the last part under his breath.

It was, admittedly, much better than Iskall had expected. None of his closest friends were on Mumbo's list, but a part of him felt personally responsible for Cubfan. He hoped the elder Hermit woke up soon. Instead of continuing down that line of thought, though, Iskall opted to turn his attention back to the conversation at hand.

"What about Grian and Stress? Can I talk to them? Maybe they know something."

"I- I actually haven't seen Grian yet, which is weird, but Stress is just outside. I'll go get her, give me one second." The sound of a chair squeaking against the floor and retreating footfalls told the blind Hermit his friend was already gone. Iskall waited, alone with his thoughts. Try as he might, they kept circling back to his eyes. The conversation with Mumbo had distracted him, but now that he was alone, they felt more painful than before. Blind. That was an . . . unexpected development to be sure. He assumed his friends had already looked into bionic replacements, They had done it for both him and Doc before. He'd have to give up building. Sparing too. The former he wanted to choked up over, but he loved fighting. At one point in his life, it had been his entire identity, though he preferred not to think about that time period. He refused to give up redstone, though, even if he had to tell the components apart by sense of touch alone. He'd teach himself to be able to do  _ something _ because he'd be damned if he had to give up everything that made him  _ him.  _ He would also never fly again. Never explore the nether or go end busting with his friends. The thought of missing out on all those adventures was off-putting enough to dampen his determination.

After what felt like an eternity, two sets of footsteps returned. One, probably Mumbo, sat back down in the chair, while the other took a seat on the foot of his bed. The person in the chair, definitely Mumbo, he realized, seemed to be struggling to breathe properly, as if he was upset.

"Stress? Mumbo? Hallo? What's going on?" Desperately wishing he could see their faces for some sort of clue. The thought stung as soon as he had it, so he pushed it away.

"Hey, um, Iskall. How's your head doing?" Stress asked, trying to change the topic already.

"I'm fine, really. Stress, what's going on."

"I- I'm sorry, Iskall." Stress whispered as if realizing she would have to answer him sooner or later. "I- thought Mumbo would have told you. I didn't realize no one had told him.

"Told him  _ what _ Stress?" The injured Hermit hissed, thoroughly fed up with this guessing game. He was no idiot, something was very wrong, and he knew it. Why wouldn't she just tell him-

The healer in question cut off his thoughts, voice raw. "In the battle, Grian he . . . one of the watchers got to him first. It grabbed him, forced him to- to turn into one. I- I'm sorry, Iskall, Mumbo. I'm so so sorry. He's gone."

__ __ _ What? Gone? As in gone? _ But no, that didn't make sense. Mumbo had said they had won. Besides, you can't just _ turn into a Watcher _ , could you? No, this was some horrible, sick joke. Grian was fine. He would walk into the room any moment, laughing and tossing eggs everywhere. But he didn't. It took a full five minutes of silence for Iskall to comprehend that this wasn't a prank. He was gone. All at once, his throat felt thick as he struggled to draw breath. His hands began to tremble as a heaviness found its way into every bone in his body. His thoughts stuttered as a horrible feeling he didn't have the energy to identify flooded his brain and sank its teeth into his heart.

How could this happen? Grian was- he- he was- gone. How could this have happened? How could he let this happen? How could the others let this happen? How- 

Iskall discovered that he could still cry.

"Mumbo, why didn't you say anything? You could have told me. WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?"

"I DIDN'T KNOW"

Silence filled the room, broken only by the labored breath that came with high strung emotions. It didn't take the ability to see for Iskall to feel the eyes of everyone else in the room on the two of them. The salt from his tears chafed the skin under his bandages, but he hardly noticed. Why- why hadn't he stayed by Grian's side in the battle? He could have saved him, knocked him out of the way, distracted the Watcher, something,  _ anything.  _ The muffled crying from Mubo made so much more sense now. As close as the cyborg was to the gremlin, Mumbo was twice as close. It briefly occurred to Iskall that he should be strong for his friend's sake, but this hollowness in his heart demanded his attention. It was selfish, but he felt he deserved some time to grieve too. So he lay there, in that cursed hospital bed, and mourned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry if this chapter is a bit lower quality then most. It was supposed to be twice as long and even more angsty, but in the end I just couldn’t write it and fighting writers block every step of the way go old, so I cut I here. Also it was really late already anyway. 
> 
> Sorry bout that I’ll try to be better but I’m reducing my goal to a more realistic once per week but more if I can.
> 
> I am NOT discontinuing this story. I love it and have more plans for the future. I’m simply cutting out a part that was ruining the fun of writing for me. I may add it back in later who knows. Depends if y’all want a ton of angst or just a bit. Also on my motivation.
> 
> This has gotten long ok Byeeee!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *roles in almost a month late*  
> *sips hot coco*  
> Heyo, What’s up?

Upon respawn, the first thing Grian noticed was that his balance was all off. No, that's not true; the first thing he noticed was the pain, but his balance was a close second. He couldn't even stand up properly without falling over. Confused, he looked at his back to find a pair of wings. They were pail grey, with a hint of purple in them. He had almost forgotten about them, the watchers had given them to him when he joined them, and he hated them so much he hid them in the void. He immediately attempted to shove them back in their holding cell, but his magic was gone. This . . . actually explained a lot, the wings had come back to him because he respawned, but they were grey now, not white. Contrary to popular belief, the color of his watcher form, mirrored in his wings, was determined by his magic, while height was determined by age.

It took him a while to realize he had respawned at all. That means he had done it! He had successfully not killed himself while simultaneously taking out the Watcher before they killed him! How had he forgotten all of that? Sure his memory was a bit fuzzy, but it had just happened, right? Sighing, he stepped out of the World Spawn building and into the city of World Spawn A4.

As he walked through the streets, more than half the people threw him nasty looks. A few even snarled at him. It wasn't until a hooded figure pulled him aside that he understood what was going on.

"You must be new here," she scolded, "Everyone knows hybrids aren't welcome here. How long has it been since you last died?" Grian just looked at her in shock. This woman just grabbed a stranger's arm, pulled him into an alley, and started yelling at him! How rude!

"Yeah, I am new. What was that for?" He pulled his arm out of her hand and held it to his chest protectively.

"Oh! Sorry! I'm Leia. I'm a hybrid too, don't worry." She pulled back her hood to reveal pinkish appendages and a bald scalp. An axolotl hybrid, then. This did absolutely nothing to calm his nerves, however, as he was more worried about if the stranger who had just grabbed him had a knife than if they were a hybrid or not. 

She seemed oblivious to this and continued on. "You need a way home? Actually, probably not; you have wings!" Gosh, this lady was overly chipper. Was she always this way?

The builder simply rolled his eyes before saying, "My kingdom is gone now. I- don't really know what I'm going to do." As he said it, he realized he hadn't thought this far ahead. The Hermitlands had been obliterated, and who knew where the hermits were now. He would never find them. He felt his shoulders slump in defeat.

Leia's bubbly personality seemed to finally dampen at that. "I'm so sorry. If you want, you can come stay at the hybrid village with me and the others? You don't look like any hybrid I have ever seen, but if you aren't human, then you aren't welcome here." Grian considered this. On one hand, going with this stranger when against everything he had ever been taught. She could be a sociopath, or a drug lord, or just a really shady person who wants to manipulate him. But if she really wanted to hurt him, wouldn't she have done so already? Besides, what did he have to lose? His friends were gone, even if they weren't dead. So against his better judgment, he nodded and followed her out of the city.

The hybrid village turned out to be just that, a small town in the forest full of hybrids. There were plenty of common ones like cats and foxes and hostile mobs walking the streets, but also some more uncommon ones too. A girl with bluejay wings helped fix the roof of a witch's hut, and a man with eels for hair was reviewing blueprints with a slime humanoid. What surprised him most, however, was that humans walked the streets as well, speaking up glass and making idle chatter. NOt that there was anything wrong with that, but he expected the hybrids to hate the race that persecuted them.

"Why would we hate them? We'd be no better than they are." Was Leia's response when he asked. "Besides, We need all the help we can get repairing this place." Now that he looked around, the village had definitely seen better days. Shattered glass lay everywhere, and segments of walls and roofs lay scattered on the ground. Some of the buildings had it worse than others. A half-collapsed witches hut looking to be the worse end of the spectrum, while what looked to be a rabbit burrow was hardly affected.

"What happened  _ here"  _ Grian asked, confused at what would have put an entire town in such disarray.

Leia gave him an incredulous look. "How long did it take you to respawn? About a day and a half ago there was a huge explosion, estimated to be centered in the Hermitlands seventh colony, where they were all living at the time. Even out of the blast radius, it did a lot of damage."

_ A day and a half? It took me that long to respawn? _ It made sense when he thought about it. Respawn times vary depending on how you died, and that blast of energy combined with a void death, and an overworld one at that, was bound to take a while.

As the two walked through the streets, Grian couldn't help but think of his home. Had the hermits gotten to safety? Were they alive? The magic imprint in the hermit land would keep the Watchers distracted for a long time, but then again one could never be too sure with the Watchers. They could decide to do anything, and the Hermits would be unable to stop them. From the sound of it they were yet to send word to the rest of the world, but who knows when they would. Maybe they would send word today even. It was unlikely but he had to keep his hopes up somehow. 

The hermits didn't send word that day, or the next. In fact, it was almost a week before he heard any news at all. He was reviewing blueprints for a new house he was building when he overheard a pair of foxes talking about the morning paper as they passed.

Grian looked up. "Excuse me? Did you say the Hermits are alive?"

"Haven't you seen the paper mate? Their leader sent world last night that they survived this morning! It's a miracle, though. No one knows how they did it. No details or anything. Just that they are alive and in an undisclosed location. I'm surprised they made a full article out of it honestly." Grian didn't care about the lack of details. The hermits were alive. Alive! It felt like a physical weight had been lifted off of his entire body. He hadn't even realized how much guilt and pain he had been caring until it was gone, but he suddenly felt as light as the feathers on his back.

The next piece of news came three days later, in the form of a newspaper. Grian was sitting in the newly rebuilt cafe on main street when just by chance, he looked up and saw the paper the person next to him was reading. His thoughts stopped dead and he almost forgot how to breathe when he read the headline.

**The World Says GoodBye to FalseSymmetry**

Coffe long forgotten, Grian ran out of the cafe and sprinted to the nearest store that sold the paper. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true. No no no no no, he had saved them hadn't he? Had the watchers found her? No then they would all be dead. She was dead.  **Dead.** No, no there had to be some kind of mistake. She had a sister, maybe she had been the one to die and the news had gotten it wrong? Or maybe no one is dead after all. The headline hadn't said the word dead, maybe she was just missing, or comatose. She wasn't gone right? Right? Oh gods this was all his fault wasn't it? He had brought the His spiraling thoughts consumed him as she ran, vision tunneling and heartbeat erratic. He tossed a wad of money on the store counter, not bothering to count it, and grabbed the neared paper. It was the same one the man in the cafe had read.

**The World Says GoodBye to FalseSymmetry**

World-renowned pvper and member of the Hermitlands FalseSymmetry permanently died two days ago due to complications associated with the Watcher attack on her home in the Hermitlands. False was born on May 31, 1991. She made a name for herself early on in her life due to her amazing fighting abilities and extreme resilience and dedication. False became an official member of the world famous Hermitlands in July of 2014, When the admin XisumaVoid invited her to stay with them pemanity. 

In addition to fighting, False had a passion for building, and completed many elaborate and mammoth construction projects in her time with the Hermits. Many of her fabulous builds stand out in comparison to the work of her sister, True, and are available to visit in the public Hermitcraft colonies. False never gave up on her passion for fighting, however, and cuntiuted to compete in and win fighting competitions throughout her life.

Very little is known about her death. Reports from the kingdom's chief medic Stressmonseter report she died in her sleep due to internal bleeding. There has been no official autopsy as the Hermits continue to refuse to reveal their location, or send direct word of any kind. The only information available is what has been sent out to the grieving family. Our hearts go out to the Symmetries and we pray not to see any more casualties related to the Watcher atack.

Grian had to read the article a full five times before he began to process what it said, and by the time he was done the bottom of the paper was hardly legible from all the tears that caused the ink to bleed. He fell to his knees, legs giving out right there in the middle of the shop. Gone. Dead. After all of this, after everything, she hadn't made it. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his chest tightened. The world could have fallen out from under him. It wouldn't matter, he would hardly even notice. FalseSymmetry had died, and it may as well have been at his hand.

After that shock, no more news came, good or bad. Four months Grian recently checked any form of media he could find every day in the hopes of more news, but nothing. It was hopeless, he knew. The Hermitlands had already been well known colonizers, and the Watcher attack on the seventh colony had only fed the worlds interest in them. Any news would be on the front page of every newspaper and on the lips of every person. But he couldn't help but check anyway.

In his grife, Grian had thrown himself into building, desperate for a distraction. He had only lived in the village four 16 months, and yet at least seven new highly detailed buildings had sprung up by his hand. It was relaxing, and an amazing pastime, though he got the feeling almost anything would beet moping in his small apartment for months end.

He had even started working collaboratively on some of his builds, a thing he hadn't done since before he moved in. He was working on a home for a fox hybrid named Seapeekay, who's old one had burned down in a fire. He had noticed the old house on several occasions, and while it wasn't bad, the new one his building partner Scott and he had made was ten times nicer in his opinion.

"So Grian" Scott asked, making idle conversation as the two worked, "You watching the big reveal tonight?"

"What do you mean 'Big reveal'?'" Grina questioned, confused

"We'll Apparently some really important guests arrived in the Antarctic Empire last night. Rumor has it there will be an announcement about it on tv tonight." Grian pondered this information. His first reaction was the unlikely but ecstatic hope that it was Hermits, but he quickly shoved the hope aside. He couldn't afford false hope, not when he had wired so hard to come this far past his grief. But he couldn't stop his thoughts from hyper focusing on the possibility for the rest of the day.

Despite telling himself that he's not going to watch it, that he can wait until the morning to know, Grian ended up sitting in front of the tv for hours once he got home. Time ticked by as the night dragged on, but there was still no word from the Antarctic empire. Finally, after what felt like years, the iconic blue banner filled the screen. Grian sat bolt upright, paying more attention in this moment then he ever had or would in his entire life. The announcer rambled on and on, but his words fell on deaf ears. All of the ex-watchers attention was on the screen and the screen alone, praying to catch a glimpse of his friend, to see that they were alive and well. Ironically, by doing this he only dragged it out for himself. If he had only listened, he would have heard the names of the guses long before they appeared on screen. But then there they were, Xisuma and Philza, standing on a stage and shaking hands, and Grian collapsed in relive, The bilder released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, throat seizing up. The Hermits were back. They were in the Antarctic empire. They were back back back back  _ back.  _ Grian ran to his room as soon as the program ended. The Hermit exchanged his worn out clothes for fresh traveling ones, and packed a small bag. He then flew as fast as he could to the town hall to oficalze his move out. The Antarct palace, and by extent the Hermits, were only a two day flight away, and he would be damned if he didn't find them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have gotten really de motivated for this story, I won’t lie to you. I WILL finish it, but I also am abandoning all schedule for it. I have had this written for a full 36 hours before I bothered to post I’m so unmotivated. I’m sorry to like the 20 people who read this lamo.
> 
> On a different note, I may make a one shot book/ post some one shots in the near(ish) future so look out for that!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey-o! Hope you enjoyed! I’m new to writing so if you have any suggestions/ tips/ constructive criticism I’d love to hear it! 
> 
> HUGE thank you to BlueQuills for basically inspiring me to try writing. If you haven’t read her stuff already go read it she is amazing.
> 
> Kudos and comments would mean the word to me, Thanks for reading!


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